


Jasmine On Thy Tongue

by dharmaavocado



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, off screen depiction of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23450278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dharmaavocado/pseuds/dharmaavocado
Summary: There is Echo and there is Fives. Echo goes before and Fives follows. That is how it was and how it is and how it will always be.In which Echo is found and lost.
Relationships: CT-21-0408 | Echo & CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555
Comments: 16
Kudos: 161
Collections: The Star Wars Riff Off





	Jasmine On Thy Tongue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jynx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jynx/gifts).



> Title from Mountain Goats song _Heretic Pride_.
> 
> Takes place after the Bad Batch arc, so there will be spoilers.

There is Echo and there is Fives. Echo goes before and Fives follows. That is how it was and how it is and how it will always be.

* * *

“Echo,” the brother says. No. Rex says. Names are important.

He is Echo, remade into something new, but Echo still.

“You came back for me,” he says.

Rex cups his head, careful of all the places the nodes are stitched into his skull, although there is no need of care. His nerve endings had been deactivated to spare discomfort, more out of necessity than mercy. There is little left of his body that is a mercy now.

“I did,” Rex says. “You’re going home, trooper.”

On his left, where he always is, Fives says, “See, I told you he’d come for us. You know what a stubborn asshole he is.”

“Yes,” Echo says, “I know.”

* * *

Rex is the second thing Echo sees when he is remade, but Fives, as in all things, is the first. It’s Fives who had first touched the arm and the legs and the spine, who held Echo’s head in his hands and says, “Good thing I’ve always been the pretty one.”

“We have the same face,” Echo says, voice weak but present; they never bothered to take his vocal cords.

“That can’t be right.” Fives finds the node at the base of the skull, right above the first vertebrate, presses on it with care. “There’s no way the Kaminoans would allow so many ugly bastards to get through.”

“Fuck you.”

“Don’t think you’re up for that. You can’t even stand.”

It’s true. Fives is taking his weight, same now as that first night after Rishi when they sat in the barracks aboard _The Negotiator_ , the only two left.

“I got you,” Fives said. Says.

Echo is then and he is now, as Five is then and Fives is now.

“And I got you,” he answers, and every Echo and every Fives sit together, the only two who made it out alive.

* * *

Tech is watching him. Echo can feel the stare like an itch along the back of his neck. Echo lets him look. There is nothing left to hide.

“What’s his problem?” Fives says, glaring.

“He’s worried we’re compromised,” Echo answers, and taps his temple. “They were in here, after all.”

“Not your fault,” Fives says, smoothing his thumb along where Echo had touched.

Echo shrugs. They had cracked him open, rifling and rummaging until they had what they wanted. He would have wept from all the taking if it hadn’t been for Fives who reminded him to be angry. Fives has always been better at anger.

“He’s right to be concerned,” Echo says. Tech is watching, and so Echo turns his back to him so that only Fives can see the small vibroblade he had slipped from Hunter. “Look at what I found.”

Fives turns so that Tech can record his grin, and says, “Damn right he should be worried.”

* * *

“I’m just gonna say it,” the large one says. No. Wrecker says. His name is Wrecker. Names are important. He is Echo and Fives is Fives.

“No, you’re not,” Hunter says, arms crossed and head tipped back as if he were sleeping. Fives sits the same way. Neither rest.

“Yes, I am,” Wrecker says, staring at him, and Echo tips his chin up. “Who the fuck are you talking to?”

Fives snorts. “Told you he’s the dumb one.”

Wrecker doesn’t take the bait.

“Perhaps the clankers scrambled his brains after all,” Crosshair says.

Fives makes the rude gesture Senator Chuchi had taught them on Orto Plutonia. It involved precise angles, and Fives had let her patiently manipulate his fingers until he mastered it.

“Enough,” Rex snaps.

“Apologies, sir,” Echo says, nudging Fives in the ankle until he mutters a disingenuous _sorry._ “You know how Fives gets.”

Skywalker says, “What do you mean Fives?”

Echo frowns. “It’s just Fives being Fives, sir. You know how he is.”

It is very quiet when Rex says, lost, “You don’t know.”

Echo shakes his head, desperate, but he can’t stop what is going to happen. He can never stop it.

“Echo,” Rex says, reaching for him, “Fives is dead.”

Tech watches. Echo waits for Fives to argue, but for the first time in their lives, Fives has nothing to say.

* * *

They take him out of stasis to make improvements, drill new holes, weave in new wires, scoop out old Echo and pour in the new Echo. When they are done, he sits with Fives, their knees touching and their heads bent together.

“You never liked me, before,” Echo says. It’s cold, or at least he thinks it is judging by how Fives is shivering.

“I’ve always liked you,” Fives said. His fingers are warm on the back of Echo’s neck.

“Not on Kamino. You thought I was—”

“Uptight,” Fives says. “You were very regulation back then. But I still liked you.”

Echo tries to shake his head, but Fives holds him still. “You barely looked at me.”

Fives touches their foreheads together. “I’m always looking at you.”

“Even though I’m an ugly bastard?”

Fives laughs, and Echo closes his eyes. If he were like Tech he would be recording this. No. Tech is not here yet. Tech is later.

Now it is him and Fives, and Echo says, “Don’t leave me.”

“Never,” Fives says. “I’ll never leave you, not even if I wanted to.”

“Then don’t,” says Echo, and Fives laughs again, and he stayed, stays, will stay.

* * *

It’s Fives’ helmet. Echo drags his fingers along the curvature, over the divots and scars. He traces the shape of the Rishi eel, digs his fingernail into the painted eye. He designed the stencil when Fives’ first attempt at hand drawing failed miserably. Paint got everywhere, even in his goatee, and the Echo then had laughed at Fives’ disgruntled face.

“You kept it,” he says.

“I did,” Rex says, sitting across from him in the empty barracks. There is no Tech and there will be no recording. “I kept yours.”

“He’ll want it back,” he says.

“Echo,” Rex says, so gentle it makes him flinch. “I was there when it happened. I held him while he died. He’s not coming back.”

He turns the helmet over in his hands and runs his fingers along the inside until he finds the notches, each one carved for a successful return. There’s more than he remembers, and one more will need to be added, now that Rex has found them.

“He was with me, sir,” Echo says. “It wasn’t him.”

Rex touches him, careful, grasps Echo by the back of the neck, and says, “I’m sorry. But he’s gone.”

Echo sits quietly with the words, and when Rex leaves, he says, “Rex thinks you got yourself killed.”

“I didn’t,” says Fives, pacing angrily. “I was with you. I’m always with you.”

He offers Fives his helmet, but Fives refuses to take it. He never did like admitting when he was wrong.

“You wouldn’t have abandoned the mission,” Echo says. “Not even for me. You would have completed it.”

Fives scowls but doesn’t argue. He never argues when he knows Echo is right. It’s what Fives hated about the Echo from Kamino.

“I went down,” he continues, kind, “and you left the Citadel only to die on Coruscant.”

“I wouldn’t leave you,” Fives snaps. “Not you.”

“You would. You’re a good soldier.”

Fives snarls and drops to his knees, knocking his bucket from Echo’s hands. “Fine, I would, but I’d find you and I’d come for you. You know that, Echo. There’s nowhere they’d take you where I wouldn’t find you. _Nowhere.”_

“I know,” Echo says, and he takes Fives’ head in his hands. “I can’t get rid of you.”

Relief unwinds Fives by degrees. “You can’t. We’re the last, me and you. There’s no one else.”

“No one,” Echo agrees, and touches their foreheads together, the last of them together, still.

* * *

“Tech says you’re coming with us.” Hunter’s arms are crossed but the words are kind.

“Not just me,” Echo says. “Fives, too. It’s either both of us or neither of us.”

“Not this shit again,” Wrecker groans.

“This shit again,” Echo says firmly, ignoring the way Fives is smirking.

“Of course,” Tech says, watching. “He’s your brother. I think we can make room for one more, Sarge.”

Hunter sighs. “I suppose we can. Welcome to the Bad Batch, kids.”

“Thank you, sir,” Echo says, and settles his helmet into place, one more notch etched in, and follows them up the ramp and into the ship.

* * *

Echo is Echo and Fives is Fives, and where he goes before then Fives will follow after. This is how it is and how it was and, as long as he is remade, how it will always be.


End file.
